fight! fight! fight!

I knew all these auditions with their impending rejection and judgment were making me feel all anti-establishment and slightly nihilistic.

And I was on the red line headed to ANOTHER DAMN AUDITION, when I looked up and realized that there was a wall-to-wall, train-to-train freaking BRAWL erupting on the entirety of the Southbound Belmont platform.  And I watched these kids dart, sprint, shove, punch, dive and slap and I realized another word that suits me just fine today:


ohhhhhh it feels so good.  punchpunchpunchpunch.
oh sweet illusion of power through violence.

Ooooh girl.  I'm gonna pour a cocktail and watch this whole thing.  You BEAT that Cuban commie, Sugar Ray.  I'm gonna watch you do it.

Hi, thanks for seeing me! My name is Lacy and I've prepared two contrasting monologues not to exceed 3 minutes; one is classical and the other is MY FISTS


General auditions happen once a year. Each theater company holds their own set, and they usually ask for two contrasting monologues.  I challenge you to find me a single actor who ENJOYS doing monologues.


Greetings, young orator! 
It is, I, Demosthenes (384 BC 322 BC), generally considered the greatest of the Attic orators. 

Hey Demosthenes.  I'm going to ignore how annoyed I am by all the stuff you accomplished by age 20 and just get right to it: MONOLOGUES.  Man, I hate them. How did you get so good at them?


I was orphaned at a tender young age, and my guardians squandered my entire inheritance.  Eloquent and persuasive speech was the only way I was going to get my paper, you heard?

Amazing, Demosthenes. You still know how to talk to the current generation.


I'm just saying it was a matter of survival, not a half-hearted wish to make $500 a week.

but... I'm following my dreams?


I think we both know that these kinds of shows aren't your dream, Lacy. They are jobs, and good jobs, and ways to gain status and admiration from your peers.  But adaptations of Jane Austen novels in the Northern suburbs are not your dreams.  Your dreams are bigger.   And waaaaay less marketable. 

True dat, Demosthenes. True dat.


Demosthenes out. 

Just pointing this out: Demosthenes was NOT an actor.


the wisdom of insecurity, part 78 of 91894

hang on, this is a long one.

I used to carpool to work with an actor who was otherwise a really sweet guy, but was a SERIOUS dick about exactly one thing:

parking attendants.

Specifically, the parking attendants in the very large tourist trap that houses the theater where we worked.

SOOO mean. So derisive. "what a waste of space" and "stupid fucking jackasses" "lazy assholes, they don't even deserve a job."

OMG and srsly? and why? WHY? Here's my best theory: I think it was because they are bossy (understandably, since 99.9% of the motorists there have no idea where they are going, but show up in frighteningly large numbers and ALL IN SUVs) but this actor, he KNEW where he was going and didn't like getting bossed.

Grow the fuck up or get over it or whatever. We all get bossed. Deal.

As it so happens, this actor got awfully drunk at the closing party of our show. I drove him home, but even the ride through the parking garage was too much and he grunted at me to stop the car so he could open the door, lean out and heave out his stomach like a 16-year-old on homecoming night... at the feet of a parking attendant.

I am sorry he got sick.
But it was kind of awesome.

I wish he had been sober enough to register what was happening.

This is part of the wisdom of insecurity.
This is why you shouldn't call people assholes like it's a bad thing.
You are an asshole too.


Kiss me, I'm gentile.

I stopped posting for a little bit because a cousin made several comments about the narcissism of blogging in general and I was convinced they were directed to ME IN PARTICULAR.
So in order to stop acting so self-absorbed, yes, I took the most self-absorbed possible view of the situation and acted accordingly. Welcome to my vortex of ego.


I had a hard time with Easter this year, which was always a big holiday growing up. New dresses, new hats, huge family get together, huge quantity of candy, hugely improbable places where we kept finding rogue Easter grass strands for weeks following.

So now that I don't really subscribe to Christianity, I feel like a fraud trying to celebrate a holiday that I can't truly claim to observe.
me: it would just be me celebrating Easter for the sake of Easter, not because I actually believe in its origin and meaning.

Brandon: But that happens to every single holiday. What about St. Patrick's Day?

me: okay, well THAT's different. That's not a religious holiday at all. That's just about drinking and nationalistic feelings, and---

Brandon: and it started off as...?

See how he got me???
He GOT me.

So I guess I'm Christian for Easter like everyone else is Irish for St. Patrick's day. I officially broke down today and bought a chocolate cross. All Easter candy 50% off?! What a deal!

I'd make a crack about it representing half the salvation, but if you look on the back there are actually TWO servings of chocolate in this cross, and I gobbled up both. So I technically got the full dosage. of meaning, easter, or Easter. Who knows.


This happens far too often for my own comfort.

I will be out shopping, see something and think:
This is adorable! This is sexy! This is great! This is totally the style I love that I want to emulate! ... This is designed by Jessica Simpson.